A letter to me (now) from me (now)

Hey you/me,

Nice hair (ha ha, inside joke).

I just wanted to let you know that it’s ok. It’s ok that you aren’t pregnant this month and it’s ok that you really wanted to be and it’s ok to be (a little) sad about it.

It’s ok that most of your friends who were pregnant with you the first time are pregnant again or already have had their next round of babies. I promise you, the next time you are pregnant, someone else in the world will be pregnant at the same time.  It’s even likely that you will know one or more of them.

And if you never get pregnant again?

That will be ok, too. Remember how hard it was to lay down your desire to give birth to a baby? To leave it in the trustworthy hands of your Abba Father? I know you still wanted it after that, but you knew life WOULD go on. It was still two more years of wanting after that, but they were FULL, weren’t they?

Your life is full now. You have a kind, brilliant and strong husband and a darling, thriving daughter.

You have friends out the wazoo, and make more daily it seems. I could go on and on about the free country you live in, the amazing technology you have access to, everything that is just right here at your fingertips.

But those aren’t the things that make you full, and you know that. Christ alone fills. He came, lived, died, rose, filled. It would have been enough, as you say at Pesach.  He is enough. Don’t forget it.

Don’t forget about your other friends, either. The ones who will forever carry in their hearts the babies they will never hold in their arms. The ones who are still waiting for even just a positive pregnancy test. Even just that would be a miracle for some of those girls you love so dearly.  Don’t forget about those parents who are waiting simply for words on paper so they can kiss the soft heads of children who have been waiting just as long for them.

If you keep thinking about others like this, you may even remember your friends who are single, who would love to even get to the “WE are trying,” phase. 

You may even get the idea that everyone you come into contact with is waiting on, wanting something. You may have compassion or understanding for them. In fact, you only have one child to hold, so that gives you a free arm to throw around someone else’s shoulder and say, “Me too!”

Oh, it’s ok that you want another baby to hold in that arm, but there’s no reason for it to be empty for now. Ok?